


portraits of birds

by milo_the_fish



Series: time is a bendy ruler that is broken half the time [3]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Tales From The SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Background Sam/Ponk, Different Timelines/Lives, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Multi, One-Sided Dreamnap, Reincarnation, Time Travel, background skephalo, implied child neglect
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 20:48:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29477964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/milo_the_fish/pseuds/milo_the_fish
Summary: Karl Jacobs has not spent much time in the Inbetween until he finds himself wandering its halls, and realizing that there was something more to the paintings lining the walls.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Karl Jacobs/Sapnap, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Series: time is a bendy ruler that is broken half the time [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2175411
Comments: 5
Kudos: 68
Collections: SBI Fics to Make Sebbie Cry





	portraits of birds

Karl has not been in the Inbetween much, or it’s just what his scattered memory has led him to believe. His short trips there is always a blur, but sometimes he is able to stay for a few moments, allowed the chance to explore, to pass all of the rooms and wonder what they hold. Paintings of grandiose historical events appear in this place, littering the bright white walls with stories of gore, of revolution, the biggest being at the top of a double staircase, showcasing the siege of L’Manberg, before the first bombing. His friends are captured in vivid color, brushstrokes so pristine and perfect, as if it was a picture taken. He sometimes stands in front of it and stares, an ache in his heart as he stares at the faces of his friends, searching for his fiancés and being terrified when he sees them on separate sides. Karl has taken to rubbing his index finger on the surface, looping around Alex and Nick’s figures and he wishes he knew more about them, the memories still so scattered in his mind. The ring that hangs around his neck drawing his attention when he longs for their embrace, and he wishes he knew who he was, he wishes he could love them.

The newest thing he had discovered, is that the rooms hold even more paintings, some portraits, others elaborate recreations of events, but most of them are hard to place if the room is meant for one person or for a shared timeline of events. He hadn’t figure it out until he stumbled upon a room, it’s the smaller of the bunch, hidden away from the rest, and it made his curiosity buzz underneath his skin. He inches into the room, peeking into it and staring at the group of art before him. Some of the frames being smaller than his hand, others larger than his whole being, but in the middle were two paintings. On the left he sees Tommy, a suit forced onto him and his usual smile not present. The one placed next to it is Wilbur, the man in a more luxurious outfit of velvets and ribbons, beading on the shoulders in scale-like loops. They both look so different, not like the men he saw last time he was home. He looks upon the imagery surrounding them and he sees such different styles of art, the other sizes making him squint, but he turns for a moment and is stuck looking at a painting across the room, taking place the other way. It was _different_ , because on the painting he sees himself, dancing the waltz with a woman who he doesn’t recognize, her dress a dark purple velvet with white and red embellishments. He can’t contain the shock, the way that it is paralyzing his legs, who was _she_? Why was she in this room?

Karl forces his feet to take a shaky step towards it, his hand reaching forward and touching the gilded frame and that’s when he realizes, he’s traveling back. His eyes instinctually flutter shut, trying to shut out the galactic distortion surrounding him on all sides, engulfing him as he travels to a time he does not remember. He waits for the space around him to relax, the buzzing subsiding and the bright matter around him dissipating.

* * *

He opens his eyes, finding himself no longer where he was before _(where was he before?_ ), instead he was standing in the middle of a manicured lawn. Staff milling around, not noticing his presence as they continue to work on uprooting weeds and shearing the shrubs and bushes. Karl doesn’t actually remember when this was, what this timeline brings about, but he knows he needs to step into the grand building before him. It feels imposing, though, a giant towering pastel blue figure staring down at him, menacingly taunting him with things he cannot remember. There is not much he does know about this part of life that he lived, but he knows he needs to step into this memory.

The nerves make his hands shake as he steps forward towards the entrance, gripping the strap of his messenger bag and wishing that whatever lays before him is kind, is not the travesties he knows he has seen. He slips his hand towards the gold-trimmed door, wrapping it around the molded spherical knob, and turning it. The hinges are silent on the door, making his new presence not known to the residence of the house, and he doesn’t know if that is a good thing, or if he will regret his presence not being known. He slips through the door, allowing it to slowly close behind him, and he is met with a giant front room, two giant staircases covered in decorations leading to a platform with a gigantic doorway behind it. Most of the trim is golden as well, silver accouterments placed every so often with a delicate brushstroke that looks like it was done more by a cupid than a man themself. He takes a step towards the lower hallway, intrigued by the aquamarine door that had a bottom white trim until a voice interrupts him. “Karlos!” The voice is familiar to him, one has heard so many times before, and he turns to meet them, his heart catching in his throat at the man.

His skin is a lighter tan, with small moles that adorn his face, and hair as pitch dark as night that looks like he has given up on the spiked nature of it. Karl feels the smile build on his face from subconscious knowing of this man, of the way he feels a warm buzzing that would sound like a cat purr if he allowed himself to fully experience it. “Alexis,” he breathes, his voice shakes with this revelation, with the name that felt heavy on his tongue. There was a history with this name, with this man, and it’s so strong that Karl feels terrified of the grandiosity of it. “I am happy to see you back from your travels, my love,” Alexis walks towards him, and a smile works its way onto both of their faces. They finally meet, Alexis slipping his arm around Karl’s waist and placing their foreheads together, “I missed you every day that I was gone, dearest." His lover giggles, pecking a kiss on his cheek, “The bed was so cold without you, Nick kept moaning about it.” Karl snickers, thinking about the taller man complaining about the cold, “That’s our Nick, isn’t it?” Alexis simpers, his laughter joining in on the funny truth about their third, “It very much is.” His love is staring at him, as if he was trying to remember Karl, to memorize the planes of his face, and he smiles, “Yes, Alex?”

“You’re never allowed to leave that long again,” the shorter man takes his hands, meeting Karl’s bright eyes with his dark ones, “please _promise_ me you won’t,” Alexis squeezes his hands, gripping onto him so tightly, “life here is so dull without your light.” Before Karl can rebut that statement, his fiancé's lips are on his and he wishes to fight the draw they have on him, but he can’t stop the way his body relaxes against Alexis, the underlying adrenaline that had fueled him breaking down. Alexis pulls away, moving one of his hands onto his cheek, “We need you; _I_ need you-”

“I need you too, please, understand that I don’t wish for this to happen, I don’t wish for my work to get in the way of us, but it is so important, so vital that I must leave,” Karl urges, knowing that his love cannot understand the work, he can’t tell Alexis what he is doing when he leaves, but he so desperately wants to. His lover looks hurt, his smile had downturned and his eyes held this sadness that Karl knew was now long present on his boisterous dearest, ever since he had first left. Alexis pulls away from him, steeling himself, “There is a ball tonight, guests will be arriving soon, we expect you to actually _show up_ this time.” He tries to hide the flinch at the coldness of Alexis’s voice, but he knows his beloved saw it, and guilt builds in his eyes. Karl wants to hold his hand, he wants to promise to him that he’ll be better, but they both know he cannot make that promise. His lover walks away from him, covering up the sniffles leaving his smaller frame, and Karl wishes desperately, like a man strung about in a desert; desperate for water, to hold him close and show him how much he means to him. He cannot, though.

Karl watches as Alexis cries, returning up the steps to one of the side hallways, Nick meeting him halfway and holding him, staring down at Karl like he’s never seen him. Something churns in his stomach and he thinks that maybe he shouldn’t have come home, he should’ve left, sent a letter about his death, and let them finally find peace. They deserve that, at least, they deserve so much better than he can give. He walks down the opposite hallway, knowing by instinct the way to his small library, knowing that for now, he should be scarce until the festivities. The new journal was filled to the brim and needed to be placed in its proper location.

The broad dark-wood door swings in and reveals the dusty library, the one barely touched by the other inhabitants of the house. He loops the bag strap off of his shoulder and places it as the plush leather chair in front of the desk and he gets to light a few of the candles that are sat in the corners, dormant and old. Karl takes the decorative matchbox from his welt pocket, and strikes the match, bringing it to the wick and lighting one of the candles, fanning out the flame of the match. It’s time to get to work.

He gets lost in the rhythmic organization of his books when one of the staff members knocks on the door, a tall boy with mismatched glasses, and he softly tells him that they have an outfit prepared for him in the bedroom when he is ready, and he realizes how long he has been in the room, separated from the world. “Thank you, I will be there in a moment,” he speaks, smiling as the staff is slightly taken aback at the kindness from him, he knows what the other workers think of him; an outrageous and adulterous sod who is never home and when he is? He has mood swings so harsh that he’s broken full sets of china in one evening—they already fed the poor lad stories of his “exploits”. Karl places the new book on the shelf and follows the boy to the room where the seamstresses are standing together, gossiping, and he knows they’re wondering what new destruction he will bring home this evening. They set to work on assembling the new outfit for him, and he knows that they intentionally pricked him with the pins, he knows that they hide their giggles behind their hands, and he knows he won’t stop them. He knows he deserves this, no matter how much he wishes he didn’t, he is the one who leaves, he is the one who destroys things when he returns.

When they finish, he thanks them and walks down towards the main hall, knowing his loves will be welcoming guests, and that he will not be wanted there. He sneaks into the top entrance into the ballroom and walks down the narrow stairs and he sidles up to the bar and asks for a stein. It’s the same kid from before, who nods at him and rushes off to get him his order. He sighs, the room slowly filling up with the guests, and he feels an overwhelming sense of dread for this evening, from those he will have to converse in small talk with, to those he doesn’t know, it’s all so terrifying. “Here you go, sir,” the kid pipes up, sliding the drink over to him, “Thank you.” He gets a nod in response and the boy scampers off to another patron. He takes a slow slip as watches the people milling around, conversing over small drinks, at tables, and standing. Women flutter their fans and twiddle with their dance cards, and none of them really catch his attention except for two on the outskirts of the room. They’re seated at a table, talking to each other, a joyous air between them, and he wishes and longs for that carefree attitude that they seem to share.

“Is that Karl Jacobs? Or do my eyes deceive me?” A warm voice asks, and he turns his head to see Nick’s childhood best friend, Clay, advancing on him. “Yes, it is I in the flesh, my good sir,” he replies, smiling, reaching out his hand for Clay to shake. “It is good to see you in somewhat high spirits, Nick has been struggling with your absence and the silence lately,” the taller man takes a drink from his goblet, “I am happy that you two have made up.” Karl tries to smile away the feeling of iniquity that starts beating in his chest, poisoning his veins. “I am happy we have; it was agonizing to be separated from him for so long,” and once the words leave his mouth, he knows Clay doesn’t believe him. Nick’s closest friend has always been a sharp fellow, able to read body language as easily as a seamstress can sew. He doesn’t say anything about the lie, but he has a knowing look, and Karl wishes desperately for a subject change. His gaze lingers on those two girls again, and he decides to ask.

“Do you know who those two women are?” He asks, pointing out the stunningly dressed girls to Clay. “Ah,” the man sighs, “Wilma and Theadora Soot,” he takes a sip, “Remember the House of Watson, right?” Karl nods, “Well, they’re the two youngest siblings of the house and left, creating their own under the alias Soot,” Clay takes another sip of his berry wine, “word around the circles is that they were neglected and that’s why they left. Neither of them has confirmed the true reason why, but it’s fascinating.” Karl looks at them again, wondering what secrets were hidden beneath the hardened exterior they seemed to share, and deep down there was something that was sitting underneath his skin. He was unsettled, if he had his memory back, he would understand that it was because these were two of his friends, but the first time he had seen them in his travels, and it’s not the last. He didn’t have his memories, though, so he just let it go, telling himself it was the alcohol affecting him, “I believe I must take my leave for a moment, Karl, because I believe that Darryl is about to have an aneurysm and Zak isn’t around to calm him down.” He nods, “Good man, I hope you have a pleasant evening and maybe find a dance partner with a wit matching your own.” He just gets a laugh in reply, “We shall see.” Clay turns, placing his empty chalice on the bar and Karl watches as the dirty blond man walks towards his two fiancés, Alex shakily holding onto Nick as Darryl looks close to blowing a gasket at what the shorter man is saying. Nick is trying to diffuse the situation, and he takes another dredge of his stein and watches as Clay slides into the conversation, the relief on Nick’s face so evident. A shred of jealously burns in his heart, he hates himself for this very reason. One day Alex and Nick will decide that they are tired of it, and will leave him.

Maybe he’d be able to deal with that, or it’d rip him apart inside.

He watches the group interact and he knows why Clay has never settled down, despite the numerous suitors that wish for his affection, because he’s seen the way Clay looks at Nick, and he’s seen the jealously the man holds for him. Karl sighs, leaving his problems behind, he can think about them later and starts watching the two sisters again, their bubble of warmth pleasant to study, because they aren’t complicated. They are simple, they are understanding, and neither of them holds the world on their shoulders like Atlas, and in a way, he feels happy for them. Those two sisters will not have to deal with the abysmal failure of relationships, the disparity of decisions, they get to live together in a calming solitude. He doesn’t know why, but he holds an all-knowing conscious that feeds him this idea, whispering into his ear to be happy for them, as if they deserve it. He finishes off his drink and places it behind him, just noticing the music picking up and others crowding into the center of the room, and another young girl (Tova, he believes? She was from the Snowchester Farm down the road, if he remembered correctly) pulling the younger sibling into the thrall of people, leaving the older standing outside, watching over her like an authoritarian. It’s his chance, he believes, to learn something new, so he heads in her direction.

When he reaches her, he notices the intricate dress that adorns her figure, a deep purple velvet with pink undertones, sleeves with a slight puff at the shoulder with the thinnest slits of silk netting, the same pale one that covers the top of her wrapped bodice. It flows to her feet and is absolutely covered in smaller bits of embroidery, red beads lingering around the bust, laced around plum-colored silk flowers that are placed in dotted lines under the silk and around the sleeves, even some placed around the deep hem. It didn’t even compare to the brunette curls that floated above her forehead, the rest tied up and hidden beneath a night bonnet, which was covered in feathers and beading and fake berries. She was absolutely stunning, to tell the truth, her dark gloved-hands held a small cigarette box and her dark eyes keeping such a strict watch on the girl, most likely memorizing the man who is dancing with her (which is a man he knows as the name Sam, he was Ponk’s betrothed). She doesn’t break her gaze until Karl clears his throat, surprising her.

She sizes him up quickly before he even gets a chance to say something, and her hand slowly slips to the back of the dress, most likely trying to find one of the hidden pockets in the pleating. “Would I be able to have this dance, Ms. Soot?” He asks, and she looks at him skeptically, “Mr. Jacobs, I presume?” She questions, and he laughs, “Yes, that is I, my lady.” She chuckles at that, “Please never refer to me as that ever again and I will entertain you for a few minutes.” He grins, “You got that, Mistress Soot.” He holds out his hand for her to take, which she does lightly, and they join the thrall of the dancers.

Wilma never looks at him, her eyes elsewhere, on the swishing yellow dress of her sister with a different man than before, and Karl can understand why she would feel protective of such a young girl. “You must care deeply for your sister, you have not taken a moment to enjoy yourself since the moment you both arrived,” he states, and her eyes snap to his. “These types of events are not my fancy, my sister wished to go, as her best friend is here,” She states, her whole demeanor still cold, still hidden away from him. “Still, to suffer an event you do not wish to for a sibling must mean you care for her, but isn’t it tiring to only do things she wishes?” He shoots back, not looking at her and continuing to guide her through the dance floor. “I do not tire of it, her care, I must care for my sister, because no one else will.” They spun quickly, the skirt of her dress swishing against his legs, “The family we left, Mr. Jacobs, did little to take care of her, they did not love her,” they shift for a moment and he twirls her, Wilma returning to face him only seconds later. “I love my sister so dearly, more than any comprehension of human feeling will allow, I would and will protect her with my life,” she emphasizes, their bodies turning again and almost bumping into the couple next to them.

Karl is in awe of her, a beautiful woman such as herself still took it upon herself to take care of a child, all on her own, “I think it all is quite valiant of you.” She quirks an eyebrow at him, as if telling him he is stupid, “The action would only be considered that if I did not love her, if I did not enjoy indulging her wildest fantasies, but I do.” He spins her again, stepping back and dragging her away from the hem of another woman’s dress, Wilma continues, “Thea is everything I have, and if it ever comes to it, a death for her furthered existence, a death such as that, would be one I hope for in any circumstance.” Karl is shocked, only left blinking at her as they continue to sway in circles, “Y-You- Your sister must be so extraordinarily lucky to have someone such as you watch over her, someone ready to live, fight, die for her.” She lets out a snort, “My dear sister is not lucky, luck would’ve granted her a family that loved her, she is absolutely the _last_ thing from lucky, but she is mine and that is all that matters to me.” He smiles at her, not expecting a confession such as that, the sweetness holds his heart in a vise until it turns bitter. “That sounds like such a lonely existence, forever watching your sister grow old, experiencing life, while not yourself,” he whispers, voice now dull with sadness, the aching of the time before he became who he was this moment.

“You say that as if I despise her, which I could never, existence with only my sister can never be abysmal, she is too clever, too cunning and charming for me to hate any day with her, and she is only a child, one of the best that I know,” Wilma declares, eyes drifting back to her sister’s blond head, and then meets Karl’s eyes once more. “You believe that your sister is not lucky, but I believe luck brought her to you, she may not be truly lucky, but she is to have you; as a friend and sister,” he replies, spinning her once more and taking a step to the left. She hums, eyes leaving to look at Thea, smiling at the laugh she can hear from across the room, “Possibly so, Mr. Jacobs,” she smiles at him, and it’s small and brilliant and he thinks that if he was someone else, he would’ve fallen in love with her. “I just know and believe that even if she were not mine by blood, I would love her,” she glances once again at Thea, love blooming in her chest.

“I think that’s very kind of you,” Karl expresses, and she laughs, “Mr. Jacobs, I am not kind, I just know that she is meant to be in my life, no matter if my wretched father and brother, hadn’t taken her in.”

“I respect your tenacity, Ms. Soot, it is quite hard to take care of someone alone, especially when young yourself,” He divulges, stepping backward and they continue to move among the other dancing pairs. “My sister, Thea, is worth every hardship, every problem that arises,” she asserts, spinning herself under his arm and returning to face him just the same. “From how you describe her, I _suppose_ she sounds worth all the trouble,” He jokes, allowing her to catch on for a moment and she laughs, “Very _funny_ , Mr. Jacobs, don’t you ha-” That is when she is interrupted by a loud screech from the other side of the room, “ _What do you think you are fucking doing?!_ ” It was a higher-pitched voice; Karl didn’t know who it was but Wilma stops in her tracks like the others around them. Her face has fallen and she immediately rushes to the sound, Karl tries to follow her through the confused crowd. There is more shouting, a deeper voice joining them and when they reach the circle surrounding the two fighting Karl realizes that one of the figures is Thea, and he has a bad feeling in his gut. She is about to say something else when the man across from her slaps her, saying something about ruining his reputation, and that’s when Wilma moves into the circle, standing in front of her sister, a pocket-knife in her hands, the blade switched out.

Sam has moved forward in the crowd, almost standing next to Wilma while Thea cowers behind them, shaking so violently that it looks like she was shivering. “The little bitch deserved it, I was just tryin’ to have a little fun,” the man slurs and that’s when Sam pushes forward and throws a punch, and that’s when Karl turns to one of the staffers and tells them to grab the guards from outside, and they scamper off. Alexis is scrambling from Nick and towards the crowd, screaming about how he wants to see this fight, and Karl wants to stop him but Clay is able to brute force stop him before he can get too far. Ponk, Sam’s fiancé, has to pull Sam off the man as the security detail takes the asshole from the ballroom and towards the authority in the closest town. He holds Sam until the adrenaline leaves his system, taking him to one of the bathrooms for first aid, and Karl steps towards Wilma and Thea. They’re facing each other, and they haven’t spoken until Wilma moves her hand lightly, noticing her sister’s flinch and slowly using her middle finger to move the messed curls off her forehead, “My pretty girl, I’m so sorry,” and she opens her arms for her sister. Thea jumps into her arms, hiding her face into Wilma’s collar bone and holding her so tightly that Karl believes they are going to kill each other.

It took Karl a few moments to realize that the guests were leaving the mansion, festivities now soiled by a disgusting man’s attempt at coercing a young girl, but Karl understands. Nick and Clay have Alexis between them and they are carrying him towards the bedroom and Karl knows he is going to have to go too, he’s going to have to talk.

He follows them down the hall and waits until Clay walks past him to continue further down, opening the door as slowly as he could, and he slips in, closing the door behind him. Nick is sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing circles on Alexis’s hand, and his dark eyes are staring at him now. “Nick, I- We have to talk.” His fiancé nods at him, motioning for him to sit next to him, and he sighs when Karl does. “I’m sorry,” he starts, looking at Nick, “I left when we were on bad terms, and I shouldn’t have, because maybe it means you wish to break our vow, and I understand if you wanted to, I haven’t been the best for so long. You deserve so much better and I know that if you want to leave, I won’t sto-” “I know about the time travel, Karl.” Nick cuts him off, breaking his rambling apology with a new realization, and _oh_ , _that’s not good_. “Y-You read my library?” He stutters, and he can feel his hand shaking. “I had to understand, Karl, you keep coming and going, some days you remember us, some days you don’t, I just- I wanted to get you. I wanted to help you, I love you so much, Alexis loves you so much, we just- we want you here, Karl.” Nick holds his hand, “We want to be there for you.” Guilt burns Karl’s stomach, and he squeezes his fiancé's hand. “I apologize for not telling you, beloved, I thought you both would disown me if I told you, I- I thought I would lose you,” Karl mutters, tears building in his eyes and trying to fall down his cheeks.

“You can never lose us, you won’t lose me, Karl, baby, we want you,” Nick removes his hand from Alexis’s and places it on Karl’s jaw, “I love you, Karl, we can fight this together.” Karl smiles, a weight finally leaving his shoulders. “Togeth-

* * *

He opens his eyes to the bright white of the Inbetween surrounds him, his fiancé gone from him and the warmth in his chest turns cold.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this giant


End file.
